


Don't Fight Me Now 'Cause You Might Need Me Later

by citrine11



Series: A Coming of Age [2]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Coming of Age, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Growing Up, High School, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Podcast, Research, Road Trips, Shopping, Slow Burn, Travel, World Travel, pre road trip!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:53:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25502419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrine11/pseuds/citrine11
Summary: Dib's depression has acted as a bit of a wake up call, and Zim has to grow up a little bit. The two embark on a road trip, a friendship, and maybe something else.
Relationships: Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: A Coming of Age [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847494
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	1. Somewhere Only We Know

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow up to my previous one-shot Not On My Watch. It references events in that fic, but you don't really need to have read it to understand this one. The title is from the song Bloodsport by Raleigh Ritchie, and I'm sure it's been used an absolute fuckton of times on this site already, sorry lol. Hope you enjoy reading!

“Dib.” 

“Zim.” 

“ _Dib._ ” 

“Zim.”

“DIB.”

“Yes, Zim?”

“Have you consumed your vile Earth medication today?” Zim leaned against Dib’s car, uniform shielding him from the sizzling of the metal. He stayed carefully out of range of the hose Dib was using to rinse the car of bird poop and dirt. Disgusting Earth travel. 

Dib sighed. “Yes. Do you really think I’d be out here washing the car if I hadn’t?”

Zim narrowed his eyes. 

“Okay, okay. But yeah. You know you don’t need to check, Dad already embedded a new med tracker…” He absently scratched at his wrist, the small monitor there peeking out from his sleeve. 

“I already agreed with the Gaz-sister to keep track of any more...behavioral aberrations. She suggested a _shift system,_ as though the great Zim would deign to trust any other measure but his own eyes!” 

Dib twisted the knob to the hose and began winding it back in a tight coil by the garage door. “Alright, Nurse Zim,” he said, relishing the alien’s offended expression, “are you going to tell me why you’ve proposed this…alliance?” 

“Of course. But Zim will not discuss with you here in this filthy driveway.” 

“Hey! I literally just washed the whole thing.” 

“Yes,” Zim said grimly, shuddering at the rivulets of soapy water running into the street. “Precisely.” 

* * *

Even Dib had to admit it was easier to talk about this stuff out in the woods, wandering narrow trails through the spindly trees. Neutral ground. Not to mention no Gaz trying to surreptitiously eavesdrop or Gir spinning in nauseating circles at his feet. 

He bit his lip, waiting for Zim to explain his newest grand epiphany. Their battles had gotten less intense over the years since the Florpus, a simmering back-burner of petty arguments and, dare he admit it, almost comfortable bickering. Familiar. Maybe even...well. He was plenty curious about this proposition, whatever it was. But nervous. Their toned-down dynamic had worked for almost five years. He wasn’t sure he was in a rush to upend it. 

The Irken, it seemed, was past such qualms. He had shed his disguise in the empty forest, and his red eyes bore into the ground as they walked. His voice was quieter out here, quieter than every time he had blurted out a humanity-threatening plan in broad daylight, in populated city streets. 

“It has come to my attention that the Irken armada has alleviated me of my services.” 

Dib bit his tongue, but the look on his face must have given away what he was thinking. _What, you just figured that out now?_

“Don’t.” He didn’t say please, but it tinted his voice all the same. 

“I wasn’t.” 

“Now that I am...coming of age on this inferior planet, it has occurred to me that my previous methods of skirting the Tallest’s intentions may not, ah.” He took a long pause. “May not be so effective. Anymore.” 

Dib translated for him. “Everyone in our class is—I am—moving on, and you can’t keep avoiding it and annoying us in circles in the name of their universe takeover bullshit.” 

Zim huffed out a dark laugh. “Yes, I suppose that summary is adequate.”

“I...I’m sorry.” The words stuck in Dib’s throat, but he felt like he needed to say them anyway.

Predictably, Zim sniffed. 

“I did not ask for your human pity. Not all of our authority-units are so evolved as your father, to admit their mistakes.”

A small smile creeped onto Dib’s face. “You’re to that point, then. That they made a mistake.”

Zim waved off the heavy emotion that had seeped into the conversation. “Yes, yes, clearly. Any leader unable to acknowledge Zim’s greatness must obviously be at least a little compromised.” 

Dib slowed his pace to step in time with his rival, his friend, and kicked at a sharp rock in his path. It rattled down the trail ahead. “So? You still haven’t really told me what this has to do with me.” 

At this, Zim stopped short and turned to him, a devious grin lighting up his face. “For all my attempts to take over this planet, I haven’t actually seen much of it. I would like to believe that if I’m going to spend my future on this miserable rock, there has to be more of it than the dismal city we have both landed in. So,” he raised his eyes to meet Dib’s, “I’ll be making plans to explore more of its fascinating and horrifying crevices.”

Dib waited a beat for what was obviously, he hoped, coming next. 

Zim cleared his throat, antennae suddenly twitching. “And I was wondering. If you would want to come with me.”

“You just can’t stand to be away from me, huh?” Dib shoved his shoulder affectionately. 

Zim stiffened. “Silence! You know, I could have simply ordered you to. It was an act of great benevolence to measure your opinions on the matter first!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill. I’ve been abducted before,” Dib reminded him. 

“What?” Zim looked around, a wild glint in his eyes. “Who’s been abducting you?!”

“You, idiot!”

Zim relaxed. “I see. I thought...well. No matter. We will need to start our preparations! The perplexing summer period approaches, and the child filth will be free from the schools.”

“...As will we.”

“Exactly! We must make our escape from this place soon!”

Dib finally let his excitement take over his face with a vibrant grin. “Alright then. Mission time, partner,” he said, holding out his hand to Zim. 

The alien’s gloved fingers tentatively gripped his. “Partner,” he sounded out slowly. “Yes.”


	2. Take Me Out In Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim's wardrobe is in need of an update. Dib packs the car for the first leg of their trip and considers independent research.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song Style by Foster the People. Yes, I headcanon Zim as wearing crop tops, don't @ me. I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter but I hope you enjoy it!

The little rental car was packed to the brim, and Zim still didn’t have anything to wear. 

They would be departing this wretched city and driving up to the vast lands of Canada, the difference from their current region Zim could not really fathom based on internet research and photographs. His suitcases were overflowing with Gir’s slobbery nonsense and debris, various weapons, and all the things he thought humanity at large was too inept to provide: proper cleaning solutions, Pak maintenance supplies, comfortable pillows. 

But all the clothes he had were his Irken uniform and a handful of school clothes, selected to best blend in, out of haste and safety: worn jeans and bland t-shirts, gray sneakers. 

The longer he stared at the Irken Armada uniform, the more he hated it. 

Precisely because he didn’t hate it. 

The shoulder pads were striking and elegant. The pink and chrome were bold and arresting. The silhouette was sleek and intimidating. 

But no matter what he did, the outfit was steeped in memories and feelings he didn’t want clinging to him for the duration of the trip. Wearing it no longer made him feel commanding and dramatic, just small and inadequate, reminded of all the ways the Empire thought he would never be good enough. 

This was years in the making, of course, but he couldn’t deny it anymore, trying to shove the essential bits of his wardrobe and life into travel storage for the next several months. This uniform would no longer do. It didn’t suit him, or his purpose on Earth, and he needed to replace it. 

* * *

After his fourth attempt at ordering clothes on a wretched human website, Zim decided to admit defeat and ask one of his humans for assistance. No. Demand it.

The sizing was based, as far as he could tell, on either the most advanced and convoluted formula humans had ever devised, or absolutely nothing. The materials were unpredictable and low-quality. And the colors were never as bold as they promised to be. 

He shuddered. It was time to breach...the mall. 

“Dib!” he yelled, abruptly, interrupting his travel partner’s careful stocking of a large blue cooler. “My garments are not suited to this itinerary. I will require even more glorious clothes. We need to go shopping.” 

Dib stuck his head out from the cooler, cursing as the lid fell on top of his head. He had managed to shove enough Jello cups in there to last Gir a lifetime, or at least a particularly messy week. 

“Shopping? Not exactly my strong suit, but I think there’s a sale at CryptoTee…”

Zim narrowed his eyes. “This is the shop at which you procure your abhorrent shirts?” 

“Oh come on,” Dib defended, gesturing to his faded Mothman sweatshirt, “these are amazing!” 

Zim took in the entire sight of Dib with new, more critical eyes. Muddy work boots. Alien-themed shirt layered with the sweatshirt featuring a large flying creature with crimson eyes. That goddamn trench coat. 

Not that he’d admit it to his friend’s face, but the clothes did suit Dib. Nevertheless...perhaps he wasn’t the best mall companion. 

“Nevermind!” he announced, turning on his heel and striding into the house to bang on Gaz’s door. 

* * *

Zim and Gaz emerged from the horrible mall with a new wardrobe in tow, including several pairs of legging and comfortable pants (he was told they were “dance pants,” not that he intended to dance in them), several cropped shirts in acceptably bold colors, and two jackets. The first he’d been rather uncertain of— it was quite unlike Irken clothing, or anything he’d ever worn, a cream-colored cape coat that Gaz had settled dramatically on his shoulders without comment— but it was delightfully regal, striking, and he had, after all, wanted something new. The other was a dark red sweatshirt that read “100% Hu-man.” Something of a cover? Something of an inside joke?

He felt safer in it, somehow. And deep down, he was excited for Dib’s choked laughter when he saw it. 

* * *

Rental car, check. Trifold maps marked with paranormal activity notes, check. Gir’s car seat, check...wait. 

Dib dragged a hand down his face. The car seat had disappeared, along with its robot owner. Again.

He tried to make his voice as bright as possible as he called out, “I heard there’s some orange soda in it for the next robot to put the seatbelt back!”

“FANTA?” 

“Gotcha!” He trapped the robot in the (upgraded) seatbelt as Gir popped up from between the seats. 

“Awww, I’m a cargo.” 

“Yes,” he took a deep breath, “yes, you are.” 

* * *

Three microphones, two tape recorders, a mysterious briefcase, and several fat files stuffed with research later, the trunk was as packed as it could possibly be. The first leg of the trip was on the road, and they were taking advantage of all the extra space. 

“My Voot has superior traveling capacity,” Zim had sniffed, a few days before. 

“Hey, it was your idea to travel Earth. To learn about Earth. With Earth travel,” Dib reminded him.

Zim sighed. “Silence,” he’d admonished, stocking the glove compartment with spare disguises, but his heart wasn’t in it, a smile lurking at the edges of his mouth.

* * *

When he’d first seen the research equipment, Zim had stiffened. 

“This is our trip,” he said bluntly. 

Dib squinted at him. “...Yes?”

“Not Swollen Eyeball’s. Do your stupid alien research on your own time.” 

“This _is_ my time, you tyrant. And this isn’t for them. It’s for...me. I’ve been thinking of doing my own research. You know, full creative control. And all.” He cleared his throat and awaited judgment. 

Zim peered at the stacks of research. When he was satisfied that none of it concerned him, he relaxed. “I applaud your authoritarian seizing of production, Dib-beast.” 

* * *

Finally. Finally it was time to go. Gir was practically shellacked into the car to keep him contained. The playlists were meticulously made, argued over, and remade. The white sedan was packed to bursting. Dib was prepared for anything. He was prepared for losing cell connection, for bear attacks, for any manner of cryptid or ghost, for running out of beef jerky and licorice strings, for Zim deciding mid-highway to return to terrorizing the planet. 

He was not prepared for the sight in front of him as Zim emerged from the truck with Gaz and slung his final bag into the passenger seat. 

Zim. In Earth clothes. 

No, that wasn’t right. Zim had worn plenty of human clothes. Plain, dependably shoddy and unobtrusive school outfits, blue jeans and hoodies. And hell, he’d seen Zim in the Irken Armada uniform, a flashy, form-fitting one piece. 

This was different. This was Zim in a crop top.

This was Zim, his friend, his travel buddy, his partner, in a not-school-approved and not-enemy-military outfit of flowy pants and a jewel-toned scoop neck top that cut off well above where his navel would be. 

“Are you ready to go, Dib-human?”

“Yep,” he choked out. If his voice cracked, he would never admit it. “Ready as ever.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments will make me bawl tears of joy :')
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [ rebelmothman ](https://rebelmothman.tumblr.com)
> 
> Check out my [ ZADR playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/44swXwlKsSDcZDgdeBvpKp?si=y2EpQ2cCQ56Y_WCF6-ZKtQ) on spotify

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are my lifeblood, just like everyone else on this godforsaken internet!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [rebelmothman](https://rebelmothman.tumblr.com)
> 
> Also feel free to check out my [zadr playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/44swXwlKsSDcZDgdeBvpKp?si=i85tchhORgKATDXcIN1313Eg) on spotify


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